My mother lost a uncle in that quake; his body was never found. His widow grieved, remarried, and was lost track of.
Just before WWII, some of the family was vacationing on the Mendocino coast, and spotted him. He admitted his identity, and that he had taken advantage of the chaos to run off with his secretary, and change his name.
That is quite a story. Did you find new cousins?
Sounds like a plot for a Streets Of San Francisco episode.